


Unwinding

by 1JettaPug, Ruriruri



Category: KISS (US Band)
Genre: 1980s, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Established Relationship, Foot Massage, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Kissing, M/M, Manicures & Pedicures, One Shot, Rock Stars, Spa Treatments, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 07:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17700095
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1JettaPug/pseuds/1JettaPug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ruriruri/pseuds/Ruriruri
Summary: ‘"The whole idea is to get away. Not worry about anything.”’ A month before KISS heads on their next tour, Gene and Paul attempt to spend a relaxing day at the spa.





	Unwinding

Paul was surprised that he could even find the time to schedule this appointment. Despite knowing how much Gene and him needed a break, their schedules had been so full lately that he couldn’t even plan his own free time. It was nothing short of an absolute miracle that he had been able to manage to squeeze this into both of their schedules. 

“I still don’t see why we gotta do this…” Gene grumbled, holding the door open for Paul.

“Because,” Paul said, “We’re going back on tour in less than a month! We need to look our best!”

“I always look my best!”

Paul gave him a flat look, stopping in the doorway. “Gene… You have a mustard stain on your shirt from lunch.”

“...And that proves?”

“You know what it proves, Gene.” Paul sighed, purposely brushing his arm against his front as he moved past him, gently nudging him.

Gene tried not to bristle. He took a tentative step into the entryway of the building, his eyes glazing over the small waterfall displays in each corner of the room. His ears twitched at the relaxing flute music floating around, and he sighed, already feeling like this was going to be a long day and a waste of not only his time, but his money, too.

“These things never work,” he muttered, walking up to Paul, who was tapping the bell on the front desk. “You know how I _relax…_ ”

“...We can’t do just _that_ for a whole month straight--”

“Hasn’t stopped you on tour!” Gene shot back.

“That’s different!”

“The hell it is!”

“Gene--” Paul caught himself, throwing his hands down and blowing out a deep breath. They really needed this. They really needed to cool down and relax today. They needed time together, time to spend chilling and laying next to each other. Gene’s 'wife', Shannon, and all of Paul’s girlfriends were wonderful partners to spend time with, but none of them could ever match to what Paul and Gene had. That kind of connection that kept them glued together throughout the years, throughout all their troubles. To have it be strained by time apart and lack of touring... 

Paul shook his head and sighed.

“Listen, just do this for me. Please, Gene?”

Gene barely kept himself from a low exhale. God, the things he did for Paul sometimes. Lose the makeup? Sure. Trade in the black and silver spandex costumes for loose, garish little day-glo numbers Paul somehow felt duty-bound to toss at the audience? Gene was there, however reluctantly. Needy late-night phone conversations? Also there, with a can of Coke to keep him awake and a pair of earplugs if things got too ridiculous. So in the grand scheme of things, a day spent laying around at the spa wasn’t the worst sacrifice he’d ever made for his best friend.

“Fine. Just don’t let them bleach my hair.”

“Highlights wouldn’t be that bad, I had them last year--”

“Exactly.” 

Paul punched his arm.

“Any more requests?”

“... This spa has a snack table, right…?”

“Gene, you’re hopeless.”

Neither of them noticed the receptionist returning to the front desk until she rang the bell herself. Startled, Gene jerked his head up as he glanced over.

“Wha--”

“Mr. Simmons! I’m so sorry!” The receptionist didn’t look too sorry at all, smiling brightly. “Did I scare you? Oh, you and Mr. Stanley are right on time for your appointment, if you’ll come right in through the hallway…”

The two of them were taken on a short tour between the gardens and various rooms, detailing what sorts of activities took place. At one point, Gene looked to the side of him to see Paul next to him, clearly excited for the day ahead.

He couldn’t help but admire his partner. Yeah, yeah, Paul was beautiful- and ever asked by him, then Gene would say absolutely divine- but perhaps it was just the fractured sunlight passing through the glass roof and hitting his skin at just the right angle that made him look as if he were glowing. That or he was just still aching for more of him from where they had left off this morning after breakfast. Gene would’ve taken bets on the former if he could fully convince himself of it.

“And here is the end of our tour. Through these doors you will find the luxury partner room. This will be the first stop for you two today.”

Paul nodded and led Gene into the changing room. The attendant stood in the door, saying, “Now if you would like to remove all articles of clothing, then walk through those doors to your private room, that would be wonderful. All personal items will be able to be collected by the end of the day. You may enter at your leisures, sirs.” After she finished her prepared speech, she thankfully shut the door all the way, leaving the two of them alone.

Gene was a mix of surprised and disappointed that Paul didn’t even tease when he stripped down, shoving off his jeans, button-down, scarf, and boxers as if he were in a high school locker room. Not that it kept Gene from watching avidly. Paul just shook his head and tossed his scarf at him before shrugging on one of the robes and stepping into one of the pairs of flipflops the attendant had left for them.

“Geez, Gene, at least wait until we’re in the other room…” 

“Hey, you can’t blame me,”

It wasn’t long before they had both changed and Gene was pulling at his silk robe, glancing at Paul with uncertainty as he sipped his glass of wine. No one had told him about wearing white silk robes all day long. Or the big room covered with rose petals they had to themselves, complete with a bottle of open wine right by the door when they walked in, glasses next to it, on a small table, and a bowl of chocolate covered strawberries sat beside of it. Gene stood in front of Paul with his arms folded.

"Okay, I’ll bite. What are we doing here in this room?"

"I signed us up for a bit of everything,” Paul said, glancing around the colorfully tiled room. “We’re in here for about two hours, then we get to move onto the next thing. ...Actually, I forget how much we’re really doing today.”

"I don’t believe you…” Gene sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You really signed us up for--”

"Yes, yes. I signed us up for an entire day of relaxing--”

"I can’t believe you,” Gene muttered, then motioned out to their space. “I mean, what are we even supposed to be doing in here? Two hours of what? Meditating?”

“No,” Paul told him. “This is a duo relaxation room. We’re supposed to be helping the other relax in here.”

Gene rolled his eyes. “Could’ve just stayed home in bed for that--”

“Gene,” Paul snapped, then sipped at his wine some more. God, he was going to need a whole glass of this before they went any further, he felt it.

"What? Hey, listen,” Gene sighed, stepping over to Paul. His tone grew softer, then. “I just don’t see why you had to drag us out here. I mean, Paul, I can take care of you at home--"

"I know that. I'm not saying you can't,” Paul hummed, a small corner of his lip curled back when Gene rested his hand on his shoulder. “But we’re here. We’re gonna unwind. We get chocolate, seaweed wraps and manicures here, anyway.”

“I can throw a banana peel and some cucumbers on your face for next to nothing, would that help?” Gene grinned down at him. Paul turned into him and lightly smacked his chest.

“ _No!_ You’re missing the point here. The whole idea is to get away. Not worry about anything.”

“I’m not worried--”

“Gene, if we were at your place right now, we’d have gotten distracted at least five times by the road manager and the press and even the damn album cover artist. Now before you say anything else, c’here, my lips have missed yours." Paul said as he pouted. Gene shook his head good-naturedly, a chuckle falling from his lips as he reached up with one hand to cup his partner’s chin. The lead singer tilted his head with the movement, eyes already slipping closed as he anticipated the kiss he knew was coming.

“So needy,” Gene mumbled, sweeping one thumb over Paul’s lower lip and delighting in the shuddery breath he got in return. With that, he closed the gap between them, sucking up the sweet gasp Paul let out as their lips connected. One would think with how often they kissed, the action would get less electric and exhilarating. But no matter how many times Gene devoured him, he found himself warm all over and lightning crackling up his spine to settle in a low buzz against the base of his neck. It was made even more intense when Paul parted from their hungry kiss for a moment, breaths short and shallow against his skin.

Gene surged forward and kissed him again, voice muffled and sweet against his mouth.

“You gonna help me relax today, Gene?” Paul muttered, softly, sweetly, hands pawing at the exposed area of his partner’s chest through his robe. The delectable sound that came out of Gene when he flicked his tongue along his upper lip had him thinking that this whole plan wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

“Yeah, yeah,” he nodded, hardly thinking when one of Paul’s hands groped the side of his thigh and crept closer to the place between his hips and-- and--

“You damn tease,” Gene growled as Paul stepped back from him.

“We’ll never get anything done if we don’t start soon.” Paul smirked and tugged him over to a set of lounge chairs in the room. Speakers were installed in the wall behind the chairs, pushing out soft ocean noises and flute music. It was set up to encourage them to sit down and relax together, but it just looked a little strange to the bassist.

“What the hell is that?” Gene asked as he sat down on his chair and gestured to a bowl of something lumpy and green. Gene was suddenly reminded of the time Paul tried to make guacamole in his home and then forgot about it in his fridge for weeks. But this bowl didn’t look or smell anywhere near as bad. 

“This is just avocado and honey,” Paul said. “It’s for our face masks.”

“ _That_ is not going on my face!”

“Gene, it’s supposed to loosen pores and cleanse them. C’mon, _I’m_ putting it on.”

“Oh great, I get to kiss avocado cheeks.”

“Not if you don’t throw some on your cheeks, too.” Paul shot back. 

Gene frowned, being stubborn for a moment, and drummed his fingers on the table where the bowl set between them. _What the hell,_ he thought. _Smearing avocado on my face won’t hurt._ Probably had some… moisturizing properties or whatever. That seemed like something Paul would buy into, at least. Soap and water had always seemed to Gene to do about as much good as anything. Gene reached over to slide the bowl in front of him, and Paul resisted the urge to laugh out loud when he noticed Gene struggling to get started. 

The bassist stared down into the green goo. “…Paul, do I use my hands? A spoon? They didn’t give us a spoon, so I don’t kn--”

“Oh, just let me,” Paul tutted. He adjusted his chair so that they were face-to-face. Gene ignored how he felt his ears get warm when Paul’s knees brushed against his. Paul dipped his hand into the bowl, scooping a generous amount of the mash onto his fingertips. He used his left hand to push back all of Gene’s curls away from his forehead. Gene felt his eyes close instinctively, the warm pressure of Paul’s palm on his head the only thing he could focus on. 

Until he felt a cold, chunky mess on his left cheekbone. He jerked away on instinct. 

“Oops, too much.” Paulie giggled, lightly.

“Oh really?” Gene huffed, opening one eye to send a quick look Paul’s way. Soon, they both got back into position, Paul’s hand back in Gene’s bushy hair. The bassist took a deep breath and tried his best to relax his shoulders. 

“Ready?”

“Sure,” Gene sighed, flinching just a bit at how breathy his voice sounded. Then, he shut his eyes again. He felt the avocado on his cheek and temple, Paul guiding his head as he went along.

“It’s kind of like putting on the greasepaint, right?”

“Paul, it’s nothing like putting on the greasepaint. For one, it wasn’t this gloppy…” Gene grumbled. “And I don’t remember you ever helping me put it on…”

“Nah, I was too busy watching.” Paul started to smooth and spread the avocado on the other side of his face now. Probably should’ve grabbed some ponytail holders to keep it out of his hair… oh, well. “I used to get so distracted when we were doing our makeup… you used to ask me why it took me two hours to draw one star.”

“Don’t tell me, it’s because you were staring at me for an hour and a half of that time.”

“Aw, come on. An hour, tops.” Paul paused, lightly flicking Gene’s avocado-coated cheek with his finger. “Do you want this stuff in your mouth?”

“God, no, it’s bad enough on my face.” But it wasn’t, really. Sure, it had been cold and weird at first, but there was something soothing about it now. Maybe it had more to do with the gentleness of Paul’s fingertips against his skin, always leaving him feeling a little more warm, a little more refreshed. He closed his eyes for a second, pretty sure he looked ridiculous with the green spread all across his face. “You want me to do you now?”

“Mhmph, you’ll just smear it everywhere,” Paul said, “Like a kid with a set of paints. Somehow I would end up with this stuff in my hair, or on my chest, or just wherever. Thanks, but no thanks. I think I can handle my own layering.”

“Hey, I can layer greasepaint, can’t I?”

“That’s _you_ putting it on _your_ face, Gene.”

“Alright, fine,” Gene muttered, then smirked. “Soooo, you want me to _do you_ now instead?”

“Pffft, god no.” Paul laughed, laughing even harder when Gene scrunched his face up. “Awww, aw, babe, it’s not like that… I just don’t need you blowing me while it looks like you got baby food smeared all over your face.”

Gene snorted. He huffed out slightly grumpy breath through his nose, and that only earned him an extra boop of avocado to the tip of his nose.

They were quiet for a while after that, Gene get choosing to lay back in his lounge chair and doze off for a while. Paul grumbled, something about not returning the favor and caking his face with the cream, and he applied his own face mask. He laid back, resting his hands behind his head and hummed along to the soft flute music.

“It’s no Stones, but it’s nice, yeah?”

“Mmmh…?” Gene tilted his head in Paul’s direction. “What? This elevator music? It’s putting me to sleep.”

“Heheh, and it didn’t even have to buy you dinner first.”

Gene rolled his eyes under his lids.

“Hey, how long are we supposed to leave this stuff on?”

“Mhm, five to ten minutes. Maybe twenty. Or until we’re ready to rinse it off. I saw a sink on the other side of the room.”

Gene nodded absentmindedly, opening his eyes and catching Paul adjusting his robe, loosening its belt. He cocked a brow, curiously. “Paul…?”

“Hm?”

“What’re you doing?”

“Just relaxing.” The soft fabric didn’t make a single sound as Paul undid the belt completely, taking all of Gene’s concentration with it. Of course, Gene was looking for, and hoping for, a teasing glimpse of a hard-on, but instead Paul’s hands dug into the pockets of the robe, closing the sides right back up. Not even a peek. Dammit. “Belts are kind of constricting, you know?” It was hard to tell given the thick avocado mask, but Gene was pretty sure Paul was smiling.

“Depends.”

“Depends?” Paul leaned over, one hand reaching out to palm over Gene’s face, the mask mostly-dry to the touch. Gene started to shift forward in his chair, a distracted grin of his own making the mask start to crack, but then Paul just started peeling the dried mask off his forehead with his fingernails.

“... Yeah, depends--” he cut himself off as he felt a light nick against his cheek. “Ah, you have _not_ been practicing--”

“How can you tell?”

“Your nails’re too long,” Gene grumbled.

“Don’t worry, the manicure’ll take care of that.”

“So would playing the guitar--”

“Gene.”

“Paul.”

“Remember why we’re here?” Paul tugged off another thick swath of the mask, crumpling it between his fingers. Gene’s skin felt… less than moisturized. Kind of tight, honestly. Was that the way it was supposed to feel? He frowned.

“To drain my checking account?”

“No. Well, maybe.” Paul started to grin, running a finger down Gene’s jawline now that it was free of the mask. “Close your eyes.”

Gene raised an eyebrow, but did so. Given how their time in the spa had gone so far, he didn’t have his hopes set too high. Paul could tease like hell and then refuse to make good on it until later. Not shy so much as aware. As if a spa wasn’t as good a place to fool around as any--

He got his answer a few seconds later, one fairly chaste peck on the lips. Not quick enough, of course, to prevent some of Paul’s still slightly-wet avocado mask from getting on the edge of his nose and upper lip.

“Hey--”

“Be a good sport, baby. Let yourself enjoy it, yeah?” Another kiss, deeper now. More of the avocado was getting on Gene’s face, but it was getting harder for him to mind as he tried tugging him in, to almost no avail. “Sex is fun, sure, but it’s not the only way to reconnect.”

“Yeah, but it’s a very nice way--”

“Gene.”

“What? I know what we both enj--”

“Give this a chance- for me?” Oh god help him, Paul was drawing his lips down into one of his more pathetic pouts. He even batted his lashes a few times for him. Gene felt his jaw clench at the same time his heart did. He growled.

“Convince me?”

Paul about rolled his eyes, standing up from his chair and moving over to the sink. He finished up and was wiping his face with a nearby towel when Gene finally got up.

“We have some wraps, waxes and massages planned for us--”

“ _Waxes?_ ” Gene blinked, looking at Paul in the reflection of the mirror.

“Just on the legs.” Paul smiled, shaking his head at Gene’s shocked expression.

“No, no. I was just trying to imagine how many wax strips they would have to go through to get your chest bare. I mean, Jesus- we’d be here for a week, Paul!”

“Ah, Gene, you ass!” Paul laughed, throwing his towel over onto Gene’s head. “C’mon. Finish up. I wanna get to the next part of our day.”

“I’m hurrying, I’m hurrying,” Gene sighed, wiping his face clean with the towel Paul tossed onto him. When he turned around, all he could see was his partner tapping his foot impatiently at the next door.

“Relax, Paulie.” Gene smirked, taking his sweet time and strolling on over. He wrapped an arm around his shoulder, fingers rubbing at the top of his arm through the robe’s sleeve. “We’ve got all day, don’t we?”

“Yeah, but I don’t wanna wait to relax.”

“Patience is a virtue,” Gene said, smiling at the look Paul gave him. “One you’ve got to brush up on it seems.”

“Oh, bite me.”

“I’m trying.”

“Gene--”

“No, believe me. _I’m trying-_ you’re just making this difficult--”

“Gene,” Paul sighed, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “C’mon. I can work out your, mhmm, _kinks_ later.”

Gene’s eyes lit up like a low fire. “I wanna be worked on right now…”

“Well, you will be,”

“ _Oh?_ ”

Paul opened the door and revealed the next room. Two chairs awaited them with two lovely attendants standing by. Gene made a face, dropping his arm from Paul’s shoulder, and watched his partner scamper on over to his chair. Paul patted the seat next to his, smiling at Gene.

“Oh… Oh, you are so being teased later…” the bassist muttered under his breath as he made his way over.

“C’mon, Gene,” Paul said as he sat next to him. “This’ll change your tune.”

“Unlikely.”

Likely. It turned out these foot massages were very likely to change even the grumpiest of bassist’s moods. Paul held back a smirk, but he knew he was right when Gene fell back against his chair and moaned, loudly.

"I thought you said this kind of massage wasn't until later," Gene said as another moan slipped out.

"Mhm, I can’t remember what I said earlier… Listen, this is just part of the package. We both get massaged throughout this part," Paul sighed out as his masseuse finished up and then lowered his feet into the water of his tub. Paul rested his head back in his seat and sighed as his masseuse got to work on his feet, using a small brush and strawberry scented soap. 

In the seat to Paul’s side, Gene’s masseuse added a bit of a lavender smelling soap and began to scrub his right and then left foot. Gene turned to glance at Paul, and smiled as his partner tried hard to fight the laughter building up in his chest, eventually losing it and laughing. The masseuse had to take and put his wine down before he spilled it everywhere. Gene just shook his head. Why they had offered him another glass, he had no idea. But he couldn't help but chuckle at the sight beside him, knowing how his Paulie really lost it whenever someone used a brush to scrub his toes.

"I think you’re getting a real kick out of this, Paulie.” Gene laughed. Paul’s attendant stopped scrubbing and placed his feet back into the water, and Paul sent Gene a little pout.

"Oh, stop. Just you wait--" Paul said, then smirked as Gene’s lady reached for the foot file and moved it back and forth across his sole. His poor attendant about jumped when Gene kicked out and nearly hit her. She just frowned, shook her head, then turned around and placed Gene's foot in a firm lock before continuing to file away at any dead skin.

Gene couldn’t help but giggle as she began to work, then laugh even harder when she did the same to the other foot, leaving him to wipe away tears of laughter once she was finished. The string of giggles was cut down when she went about clipping and filing the nails on his toes. By that point, both he and Paul were having their feet dried, then their legs and were given another foot massage.

When their attendants finished up on both of them, Paul and Gene were led the massage room. Just like during the tour, it was very spacious and tiled with the same colorful rainbow of colors on the wall. Two large massage tables sat in the center of the room. They were long, wide and padded for maximum comfort for clients. What Gene noticed, though, was how the tables weren’t even an arm’s length apart from each other. It almost had him hesitate as they approached them, but the girls were acting so professional that it was enough to calm him.

“Mr. Simmons, Mr. Stanley, you can lay right here,” One said, lighting a few more candles amongst the many that already sat on one of the many shelves all over the walls.

“We’ll begin in a moment.” The other added, pulling over a cart with trays of various oils on it. “Please, disrobe now.”

Gene blinked.

“Pardon?”

“It’s all part of the process--”

Gene waved her off, turning to Paul, and he about smacked his forehead. Always the one to throw off the robe... 

Paul raised a brow at his partner. “What?” he asked, climbing up onto the table and laying face down. “C’mon, Gene, drop the robe.”

The lead singer jerked his thumb towards the attendants, whose backs were turned to give some privacy to the two of them for the moment. With minor reluctance, Gene shrugged off his robe and got up onto the table, copying Paul and lying flat down on it.

“What oil would you two gentlemen enjoy today?”

“Whatever you ladies want--”

“Well, you’re leaving me with an option, aren’t you?” Paul jumped in, then asked. “What kinds do you have?”

“Paul…” Gene sighed, knowing it would be another forty minutes for them to get started if they didn’t have an oil Paul liked. Luckily, it seemed as if they picked out the right one for him.

“We have a brand new type of coconut oil.”

“Would you two like to try it?”

“Ohh, coconut oil, please.” Paul grinned, then glanced over to Gene again. “You alright with that, Gene?”

“Yeah, whatever you want,” he sighed, then shivered as his attendant drizzled the oil all over his back and began the massage. Gene would sigh softly, whereas Paul would outright moan whenever one of their girls would work on a particularly sore spot or a tight group of muscles along their bodies. They worked quietly, then they had to stop when they heard light snoring coming from one of their clients.

“...Gene?” Paul murmured, softly.

“Oh dear… Mr. Stanley, I think your partn--”

“Oh, let him sleep.” Paul chuckled, motioning the girl over with one hand. “You both can work on me while he’s out. Just don’t tell him you did- let’s just keep this between us, alright, ladies?” The attendants giggled, laying their hands on Paul’s body and continuing to work at him. Paul laid his head back down and smiled over at his sleeping partner. Poor Gene was missing out… And Paul would’ve laughed harder if it didn’t mean waking him up.

“Mm, yeah… there we go…” Two pairs of hands on him at once. It was greedy, sure, but it wasn’t sexual. Well. One of the attendants had abruptly gone from massaging his lower back to squeezing his ass, but he couldn’t really fault her, even turning his head to offer up a wink when she gave him a devious little pinch. He grunted, shifting on the table a bit when the other girl rubbed his shoulders, the smell of the coconut oil almost intoxicating enough that he’d have come close to dozing himself, if not for the groping and the sudden sound of Gene clearing his throat.

“Hey.”

“O- Oh! Mr. Simmons!” The masseuse that had spent the last fifteen minutes groping Paul stammered, hands up as if she’d been caught by the police. “Ah, uh, did you sleep well?”

“I slept great.”

Beside him, Paul laughed a bit nervously.

“Hey, it was my idea. I figured since I was conscious, I’d appreciate it more.”

A flat look and squinting eyes was enough from Gene to get him to stop talking. His fingers drummed on the table top, irritably. Paul glanced from one masseuse to the other, the hopeful look on his face fading fast at their abashed expressions, and finally he cleared his throat.

“Uh, well, thank you, ladies, I’m feeling real relaxed… I think we’re done now, though, right, Gene?”

“You’re done.”

“Aha, right.” Paul got up, shameless as usual, tugging back on his robe. Gene followed suit after waiting on the women to turn around. “Don’t worry, Gene, I promise not to hog the next part.”

“What is the next part? An elevator music orgy?”

“Even better. Manicures. C’mon.”

Gene was starting to suspect Paul had spent more than one afternoon at this particular spa by the way he casually padded over to the next area without even a cue from either of the attendants. The overwhelming smell of polish in the small room, though, probably could have clued anyone in. Paul moved over to a rack of nail polish bottles. There were hundreds in every single color imaginable. Looking at them, Gene eyes glazed over every one of them until he spotted his usual black. The moment he went to picked it up off the shelf, Paul frowned at him.

“Oh, Gene! C’mon, get something else besides black!”

"I'm not getting nail polish if it’s not black!" he said stubbornly, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Try something new!" Paul sighed, then picked up a bottle of red for him. “Look, blood red! It’s perfect for you. Oh! Oh, and I’ll go with some regal purple--” Gene just shook his head but smiled, watching Paul shake the bottles and glance at his nails in anticipation.

A moment later, their attendants walked in and whisked them both away into a smaller room, glancing excitedly between the two of them. They seemed all too happy to start painting their nails and gossiping with Paul. Gene rolled his eyes until he was sure they were in the back of his skull while the _three ladies_ chatted about everything from special health diets to Alice Cooper to them just gushing over Paul’s long, more slender fingers. They were just more slender in comparison to his fingers, honestly, and-- And why was he listening to them?

Three hours later, and after some waxing and wrapping, they were finally done. Gene emerged from the changing room, fully dressed in his casual clothes once again, and stood by the door for Paul. When Paul came out, he glanced around the hall, then gave Gene a soft peck on the cheek.

“See, that didn’t completely suck, now did it?” he smiled at him. “I think you really loved that foot bath--”

“You really seemed to love that massage and the oils and lotions--”

“Oh, Genie, you can’t blame her,” Paul laughed, lightly. He leaned up and pecked him once again. “You do it to me all the time, after all.”

“Alright, alright.” Gene grumbled. He couldn’t keep his sour look for long, though. Glancing down at his partner it was hard since he saw how Paul absolutely seemed to glow, seemed to love the purple polish on his fingers, had that warm relaxed smile on his face… Gene sighed and couldn’t help but lean down to kiss at his cheek. “Today was okay, I guess.”

Paul snorted, shaking his head, then pat his cheek. “C’mon, you loved it, too.”

“I won’t when I see the bill…” he muttered, following behind Paul as he trailed off back to the front.

After the receptionist ran Gene’s credit card, and the two of them had left the spa, Paul leaned up and whispered to him, “Hey, hey. Gene, c’mon. We’re supposed to feel all relaxed now--”

“I’ll feel better when we sell out tickets for all the stadiums…”

“Oh, Gene,” Paul sighed, lightly thwacking his arm. “C’mon, maybe it’s time I really got you to relax.”

“What? You finally gonna give me a strip tease?”

Paul batted his lashes at him, softly. “If you want that…”

Gene’s brow twitched in interest, and he smirked, devilishly. “Want me to take you home and make you all tense, then relax you?” Paul nodded eagerly, feeling his cock stir at the low growl in his tone.

Paul leaned forward, tilted his head up ever so slightly to meet Gene’s lips. His mouth was warm against his and one of his hands was reaching around his backside, slowly sliding down further and further. Gene reached out and rested his hand against Paul’s chest, rubbing at it.

Their lips moved, filling them equally with that familiar warmth, that blissful comfort that they shared in. Paul opened his mouth and traced the top of Gene’s lips with his tongue, soft motions bringing a soft color to the bassist’s cheeks.

Paul’s hands both drifted up to Gene’s shoulders, one resting against his neck and the other traveling further up to tangle in his hair. Gene tilted his head so that he could _really_ kiss Paul-- a little wetter, a lot hotter. Paul sighed softly against his lips, exhaling a small noise that could only be described as contentment. Gene smiled and nuzzled into him when he heard it. Paul returned the smile, lips pinker than usual and shinier. Paul looked relaxed, and Gene felt relaxed and happy, and- and-- and fuck they needed to get in the car and take care of this. Take care of this right then and there. Gene was going to die if he had to drive back like this.

“ _Paul…_ ”

“ _Gene…_ ”

“Car. Now.” Gene’s voice rumbled deep with desire. Paul shivered at its tone.

“Now?”

“ _Now._ ”


End file.
